Yes! He's the god of acting

"Seven of Spades, what do you require?"

"I need a quiet room."

"Purpose?"

"I've discovered a suspected Fusionist. I need to conduct a calamity-level assessment."

"A Fusionist?" The woman raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Is recruitment possible?"

"The target can be ruled out as a Fusion Faction member, though he shows inclinations toward the Enforcers. Whether he has recruitment value depends on my assessment results."

"Understood."

The woman pulled a key from beneath the counter. "The quiet room is on sublevel two."

Fred took the key, opened the basement's hidden door, and with a flicker of movement, vanished into the darkness.

The woman stepped out from behind the counter, stood at the entrance to discreetly observe the surroundings, then flipped the "Open" sign to "Closed."

Hiss—

In the darkness, Fred lit a kerosene lamp and descended the narrow staircase step by step.

The amber flame gradually sank lower. At the bottom of the stairs lay a space roughly ten square meters. Fred bent down, placed the kerosene lamp in the center of the floor, then retrieved a small brown bottle and poured out its contents.

Fred removed his glasses. Azure light emanated from his eyes as overwhelming pressure transformed into a whirlwind, stirring through the confined space.

"Diagnosis... initiated."

Ice Spring Street

William's figure weaved through the shattered ruins, searching meticulously.

He felt immensely grateful to have been assigned to this location, tasked with finding clues. If Henry had left any traces here, William would be the first to know—and the first to eliminate them.

Had yesterday's peace charm not fallen into his hands but into those of another Enforcer, the consequences would have been unthinkable.

But the evidence suggested Henry had left nothing else behind.

William spent the entire morning turning the Ice Spring Street ruins inside out. Apart from various flesh and limb fragments, he found nothing else—not even traces of the "calamity domain" Sam had mentioned.

William couldn't help but wonder: what exactly was the nature of the calamity within Henry?

As he pondered, a figure approached from the distance.

"Carl?" William recognized the newcomer and froze.

Carl's presence on Ice Spring Street wasn't surprising, but the problem was his current state: metal crutches supporting his shoulders, one leg in a cast, wounds and bandages covering his body, his left eye blackened, dirty as if he'd just crawled out of a trench.

Hearing William's voice, Carl—who had been walking with his head down—finally showed a glimmer of light in his eyes.

"William." Carl smiled bitterly. "I didn't think I'd live to see you again..."

"What happened to you?"

"I'm not going to be an Enforcer anymore."

Carl raised his head, gazing at the distant aurora, sadness and desolation flickering in his bruised eyes.

"What happened?" William clearly remembered that when he'd left yesterday, Carl had been eagerly anticipating his mission. How had he become this broken?

"The Enforcers... Ice Spring Street... not one decent thing among them."

"William, do you know what kind of people live on this street?"

"Debt collectors! Cultists! Fugitives! This place is crawling with illegal gun trades, drug deals, organ trafficking... Yesterday I went to find survivors on this street to collect information, and they mocked and insulted me!"

"They kicked me into the bathroom! Made me clean their toilets! When I refused, they broke my leg!"

Carl's voice grew increasingly tremulous. He seemed to recall some painful memory, veins bulging in his neck.

"They did it on purpose!"

"The Second District Enforcers know what this street is! None of them wanted to come, so they requested personnel from the Third District! I don't know what deal they made with Max, but he pulled people from the Third District reserves!"

"He knew we were rookies, poor with no influence! If not us, then who?"

"It sounds nice—we're here for support. But the ugly truth is we're sacrificial offerings from the Enforcer high command! I swear on my life the Enforcer leadership has connections to Ice Spring Street's underground trades!"

"Why should we suffer this?"

"My parents sold everything to put me through school! I earned my place as an Enforcer through merit!"

"What right do they have to humiliate me like this?"

Carl's angry roar carried bloodshot eyes, but even in this state, he dared not speak too loudly—because Second District Enforcers were nearby.

Under the lion's gaze, even the most enraged ant must remain silent and suppressed.

Carl's chest heaved violently, as if he might challenge Ice Spring Street or the Enforcers at any moment. But as a voice rang out, his body shuddered again.

"Carl, William? What are you discussing?"

Sam, wearing the black and red uniform, approached with crossed arms, asking curiously.

Carl's face turned deathly pale.

"Carl, didn't you say you weren't going to be an Enforcer anymore?" Sam continued. "Voluntary withdrawal from the Enforcer examination offers no second chances... For people like you, this should be a life-changing opportunity. Are you certain?

Or... if you feel the Enforcers are falling short somewhere, you can voice your concerns. We can discuss it..."

Carl's expression shifted repeatedly, several times seeming about to speak but stopping himself. Under Sam's gaze, he finally just shook his head.

"No, nothing... I withdraw voluntarily."

"What a pity."

William looked at Carl before him, his emotions suddenly complex. Carl had dared to pour out his accusations against the Enforcers to William in torrents, yet before an actual Enforcer, he couldn't speak half a word.

But he couldn't call Carl cowardly. Even if Carl didn't become an Enforcer, he'd still have to live in the Third District, or one of the other major districts in the Aurora Realm. And wherever he went, there would be Enforcers.

For everyone living in the Aurora Realm, Enforcers were heaven itself.

Carl looked deeply at William one last time, then lowered his head again. He struggled with those cheap crutches, gritting his teeth, limping toward the Third District.

His figure gradually shrank with distance until it became a grain of fine sand, blown away at the road's end.

William knew that from this day forward, Carl might never raise his head again.

"Ah, actually I thought he was quite good—hardworking, with decent potential." Sam watched Carl's departing figure and sighed deeply.

"By the way, with Carl gone, no one's doing his work... Starting today, you'll take over for him."

William started, turning to look at Sam.

Sam smiled as he met his gaze. Under the sunlight, his smile was like a demon's.